Posts Tagged ‘Registered Evil’

I first published this at Techography on March 17, 2007. I’ve reposted it here for posterity and your reading pleasure!- BS

I, Patrick, a sinner, a most simple countryman, the least of all the faithful and most contemptible to many, had for father the deacon Calpurnius, son of the late Potitus, a priest, of the settlement [vicus] of Bannavem Taburniae; he had a small villa nearby where I was taken captive. I was at that time about sixteen years of age. I did not, indeed, know the true God; and I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people, according to our deserts, for quite drawn away from God, we did not keep his precepts, nor were we obedient to our priests who used to remind us of our salvation. And the Lord brought down on us the fury of his being and scattered us among many nations, even to the ends of the earth, where I, in my smallness, am now to be found among foreigners.St. Patrick, The Confessio

The person who was to become St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was born in Wales about AD 385. His given name was Maewyn Succat, and he almost didn’t get the job of bishop of Ireland because he lacked the required scholarship.

Far from being a saint, until he was 16, he considered himself a pagan. At that age, he was sold into slavery by a group of Irish marauders that raided his village. During his captivity, he became closer to God.

This one is a fairly new one, as it was just written in 2010. As with our other March stories we thought we’d share it once again! – BS 2013 UPDATE: Video corrected

Irish history is more than just words on paper. Like so many civilizations past we tend to put our stories, our mythos in to song.

Many have heard the songs of Ireland and found them any array of reactions from distinctive, to beautiful, to addictive. Music is not merely a form of expression for the Irish. It’s a way of reliving our past, and it is probably one of the few mediums in which blood has not been shade amongst ourselves.

The son of the god Lugh and Deichtine, Cú Chulainn was originally named Sétanta . He gained his better-known name, Cú Chulainn, as a child after he killed Culann’s fierce guard-dog in self-defense, and offered to take its place until a replacement could be reared.

(I first posted this on March 10, 2007 at Techography.com it has been reprinted here for posterity and your enjoyment)

The Orangemen are a peculiar amalgam of history, anger, controversy, patriotism, and pain.

The Orangemen of Ulster March

It was founded in the same County that my own family heralds from…Armagh. Given Armagh’s heritage with apple’s it’s no surprise that we settled in Ellijay then, the Apple Capital of Georgia. The Orange Order is a Protestant fraternal organization based predominantly in Northern Ireland and Scotland with lodges throughout the Commonwealth, Canada and in the United States.

Every year since 1962, the Chicago River has been dyed green to celebrate St. Patrick’s day. Nowadays, both the dyeing and a big parade take place the Saturday before the 17th. (Next year, they’ll coincide when the 17th falls on a Saturday.) It’s a uniquely Chicago tradition that tips its hat to the central role the Irish have played in the city’s history.

For a few hours every year, the architectural landmarks that line the Chicago River acquire an aquatic front yard that’s as vibrant as the neon green relish of a genuine Chicago hot dog.

Dying the river

The actual dye is orange. It turns green when it’s churned into the water. The discovery of this phenomenom was made by members of Chicago’s pipefitters union back in 1962, and the union has been dyeing the river for St. Pat’s ever since.

The natural green of the river can be seen to the right, awaiting its transformation into the hypergreen to the left.

1962, over 100 pounds of dye were dumped into the river, leaving it green for days. Now, only 40 pounds are dispersed, but because the river was reversed to run backwards away from the lake, even one day later, the entire river for many blocks to the west remains a single shamrock-colored fairway.

Chicago’s mania for St. Patrick’s green is pervasive. Above is the fountain in Daley Plaza.

I first published this at Techography on March 17, 2007. I reposted it here in 2010 for posterity and your reading pleasure! I imagine it will be a yearly thing- BS

I, Patrick, a sinner, a most simple countryman, the least of all the faithful and most contemptible to many, had for father the deacon Calpurnius, son of the late Potitus, a priest, of the settlement [vicus] of Bannavem Taburniae; he had a small villa nearby where I was taken captive. I was at that time about sixteen years of age. I did not, indeed, know the true God; and I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people, according to our deserts, for quite drawn away from God, we did not keep his precepts, nor were we obedient to our priests who used to remind us of our salvation. And the Lord brought down on us the fury of his being and scattered us among many nations, even to the ends of the earth, where I, in my smallness, am now to be found among foreigners.

St. Patrick, The Confessio

The person who was to become St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was born in Wales about AD 385. His given name was Maewyn Succat, and he almost didn’t get the job of bishop of Ireland because he lacked the required scholarship.

Far from being a saint, until he was 16, he considered himself a pagan. At that age, he was sold into slavery by a group of Irish marauders that raided his village. During his captivity, he became closer to God.

Five southern states — Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, Tennessee and Virginia — are reporting fatalities, with officials reporting at least 141 dead in Alabama and eight in Virginia.

Tornado riping through Alabama

This storm barely missed my town of Smyrna, and we were lucky. Too many people lost their lives, and I struggle to find a reason for it.

Last night around 8:00, I started getting ready for the worst. Mind you, I am rarely uneasy about storms, but this one seemed different. It was just so hot and humid outside, and with a violent thunderstorm on its way, I knew this is what breeds tornado’s. Unfortunately little else is known about why tornado’s strike with very little warning.

Fear sunk in as I watched the radar and the swirling red and yellow approaching, it was very sobering as I looked around our humble home and chose which of my valuables to save. I packed a couple bags, of course the diaper bag for the baby with diapers and a change of clothes, milk, and juice. Then I looked to our personal valuables. I packed our firebox with priceless jewelry, some files, birth certs and marriage licenses, social security cards. We took our baby’s book which had all the first memories, first hair clippings, and my computers and backup hard drive.

While looking at our bags, and got ready to start taking them down to the neighbors basement, I wondered how many by daybreak won’t even have these few things left.

Every time I hear of a storm, virtualy just wind and rain, 2 of the things that supply life, that is taking lives I have to wonder….

Why does this happen? How is it that 2 of the most important things that sustain human life kill so many people?

Bloodspite said it best when we talk of tornado’s, “They are the literal Finger of God”

I pray for the families that lost loved ones and of the families that lost their houses and businesses, nothing left to do now but to pick up the pieces and move on….

No April Fools here. Totally Dead Serious, and is the wrap of events culminating that I alluded to both here and here.

400 feet up...and still going...

During the course of my career I received the minor reputation as a bit of a madman.

Long hours were my hallmark. The ability to sleep under ones desk and work at a computer station for over 48 hours can not be under rated when talking about project support. The ability to subside purely on coffee, nicotine, and finger nails is a survival ability needed in very few occupations, but practically second nature when on a IT Roll out spanning the entire country.

Back in the states from Venezuela...also known as How I spent my 10 yr High School Reunion

I have worked almost every position that can be had on a roll out. Field Tech, Help Desk, Help Desk manager, Project coordinator, Project Manager, Logistics, SME, QA Inspector even Safety and Field trainer. I have worked in 38 states. 4 countries. Thats not even including the places I went in the service. Over 1,000 projects, and who knows what the monetary value of all the projects I have worked on would be if I even tried to add them up. I wouldn’t mind having 1% of that, heh.

The Cingular expansion team in St. Louis

Now I have been given one step below my dream job: Roll out Specialist. However it’s not just the job, but with who. The number one company on the Fortune 500 list. No other company has more roll outs, and does it on less money than they do. No one. period. You can’t find a bigger, or better, challenge than that.

It’s a corner stone for me, a turning point, and as pilots refer to it: Bingo.

That’s right my friends, I have not only found my daily cigar, but the perfect combo. Here it is:

CAO Brazilia Gol and a brand of Birch Beer only available up north: Weis.

How I came up with this killer combo? When I enjoy a nice cigar, I like to have a beverage with me to keep my mouth moistened, and my palate clean. This past weekend, I was headed out to the porch to savor my newly found favorite moderately priced stogie, when I went to the fridge, I noticed I had nothing worth drinking, then I spotted my wife’s stash of Weis Birch Beer, and figured “what the hell, I’m, an adventurer” and out I went.

I fired up my cigar, and took a few puffs, then opened the can, and what ensued was a barage of flavor, and distinct enjoyment. The flavors of both the soda, and the smoke combined in what I can only describe as an erotic dance.

Now if you will excuse me, I am off to find a distributor of the Birch Beer, as I live in Georgia, and not up north.

Hello, this is the long lost soul. I have been a stranger here, but I finally have a chance to breathe.

A lot has happened in my absence, and here is a brief update.

First and foremost, my son started walking, and forced me to lock all the cabinets in the house, as he appears to be a little terror already. Another thing he has started doing is shaking his head no…I wonder where he got that one from.

Another new event is the introduction of yard work to my weekends. For the first year of our marriage, we lived in an apartment, and there was no outdoor maintenance there. Now that we are in a house, and the landlord said to me “Do whatever you want to with it, make it your own, paint walls, take down doors, and rip up shrubs if you want, we dont care…” Yea, I have done all of that, even remodeled the kitchen a bit

With that said, I have taken out all of the shrubs, and tiny trees that were making the front yard look like a bit of a jungle, and constructed 14′ flower beds on both sides of the porch, and the wife and I have planted about 40 flowers in there.

One of the most noteworthy ventures of late, is that I have quit smoking cigarettes yet again, and have repleced them with fine cigars. The little one is starting to mimic everything I do, and I dont want that to be one of the things that he starts because he saw me doing it.

Aside from all that, I have been extremely busy at work, as I have made the move to an IT position in my growing company, it keeps me very busy.

Folks who say the Irish are horrible cooks are fools. Just my opinion. The Irish have some of the best meals around in my book, and if your a meat-and-potatoes kind of person who has been eating pasta instead, you are truly missing out.

You don’t have to just eat this recipe on St Patrick’s Day. While it is traditional, much like eating black-eyed pea’s on New Years Day is in America, Irish Stew can be made and eaten pretty much anytime just as its American counter part.

I recommend it throughout the winter months, and if you have friends over.

This is my family recipe mind you, so treat it well, Aye?

If you don’t like it feel free to blame us. If you do, just share a wee bit o the credit.

While Bentonville may not be home to a high Irish population, the Grill is without a doubt the most authentic location in the region and it’s typically home to at least one real Irishman, two or three times a month or more (namely yours truly).

Every St Patrick’s Day said Irishman brings a whole bunch of his web reading/writing buddies as well as friends for a night of cold Guinness, Irish Stew, and Reuben Sandwiches.

We hope to see ya there! Party starts when we show up. If you need my contact information drop me a comment here, using your E-mail address and I will contact you with my own information. I also typically give a description of our clothing so you have an idea who to look for. We even manage to give our trinkets for your attending from necklaces to autographed hats.

I have that day off so I will be there early, however as 90% of the time it’s standing room early we’ll try to get a table.

As added incentive true early birds will get one of my signature Erin Go Bragh cigars to smoke with your truly as well!

Hello, sorry I haven’t been posting in quite a while, work has me slammed. I just wanted to post some pictures of my new antique dresser, I have found that I like new clothes, and old furniture. After all, I am living in a house that was built in the 20′s.

Let me start by saying, I love my dad, but he drinks coffee like it is the only thing keeping him alive. My wife and I received a coffee pot for our wedding shower, that was just over a year and a half ago. My dad recently came up with mom and stayed at our house for a few days.